


The Mars Wars

by That_random_guy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Future, Minor Character Death, Outer Space, Science Fiction, Swearing, War, space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-05-19 18:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_random_guy/pseuds/That_random_guy
Summary: In a world where earth and mars are at war in the far future, a young boy on Earth is drafted into the marines to help fight Mars. The war is violent and bloody, but the young marine may make all the difference in the war...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prokriti](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Prokriti), [Mahima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahima/gifts).



> Hi!  
> So this is actually my first ever story, and will definitely be subject to many edits.  
> Please leave feedback!  
> Thanks!

“I’m going to die here”. Bombs dropped all around him, the acrid smell of smoke piercing the smell of blood and sweat that permeated the air.

“This is where I die,” thought Kai Evans, a simple Strike Marine. “I die in a bloody war zone”.

“C’mon, man! We gotta fight or die!” The yelling was coming from the man next to Kai, his name was… Jenkins? “Come. On!” Jenkins suddenly pulled Kai off the ground, dragging him towards an entrenchment in the rocky surface of the moon.

“Vitals dropping,” Kai’s suit informed him.  
“Seek medical attention immediately!”

Getting a little annoyed of listening to that overly calm voice while running for his life to the entrenchment, Kai muted his A.I.

And that’s when the laser bolt pierced his skull, his head vaporized completely and utterly. He never saw it coming.

His death was painless.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning the backstory of this universe from the perspective of the current president of Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter 1. Exciting, right? Sorry about it being so short, I'm going to write longer chapters...  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Enjoy!

Currently, Jason Cortaro was president of Earth, and every second of it was hell.  
Not just the politics of dealing with a war against mars, but also dealing with the press, with the rebellion…

It was a nightmare.

“Sir, the AP wants a statement about the recent bombing of the state capitol,” drones the voice of Caroline, his secretary. He would have resigned from stress long ago if it wasn’t for her support.

“I’ll get it done by tonight. Just buy me some time with them. Please."

Jason was half surprised it wasn’t about the war with mars, seeing as how almost everything had something to do with it.

About 130 years ago, almost all of Earth agreed to unite together under one president as a union known as the Terran Union in an attempt to stop wars, and then promptly declared war on everyone who didn’t join the Terran Union. 

After about 15 years, the Union had control over the entire world, and immediately began work on a colonization project for mars.  
At that point, Earth had a population of roughly 17 billion, and enough resources to support 12. Everyone knew it, but no one did anything about it. Until the Union was formed of course.

At this point, a sort of golden age descended on humanity for about a century. Technology was advancing incredibly quickly, to the point where Mars was terraformed into being habitable for humans in just over a decade.

Many people began setting up mining colonies on the more resource-rich asteroids near Earth and Mars, providing a steady flow of resources. Eventually, Mars had enough of being a colony, and declared independence. Of course, the Union didn’t want to give up an entire planet with a total population of approximately 4 billion people, and so they declared the Mars government to be terrorists.

Shortly after, quite ironically, Earth officially declared war on Mars, which therefore identified Mars as its own country. Mars created its own government and called it the Mars Protectorate. Soon, they had their own navy, laws, cities, all the while Earth began building its own massive destroyers, each with a crew of about 50,000.

Within a year of the wars beginning, Earth had just over 70 of these destroyers ready for war, each and every one a terrifying show of power.  
What Earth didn’t realize is just how many orbital defense platforms mars had been building during this time.

When Earth finally launched its assault on Mars, the Union was running low on funding, most of it having been sucked into the war effort.

The Union immediately suffered a crushing defeat, all but 12 destroyers being totally annihilated, and the remaining ones limping back.

After this point, the Union began to go downhill, as more and more money went into the war, and soldiers were paid less and less.  
They began seizing control of most of the asteroid mining colonies between Earth and Mars using Strike Marines to takeover these entrenched colonies, with the Protectorate unable to defend these highly valuable asteroids anywhere near as well as Mars.

At this point, the Union then had most of the solar system’s known resources under its control, and began playing a war of extreme proportions, the likes of which were unprecedented in the history of mankind.

During the first 10 years, volunteers flooded into the military. But eventually, the flow of people slowly trickled to a stop. It even got to the point where Jason, as president, had to create a draft for the army’s war efforts.

Anyone with scores too low on high school graduation tests, or who committed any crime less than murder, would be drafted.

In Jason’s 6 years as president alone, over 600 million people had died in that war.  
It was the bane of his existence.

And he was going to end this war once and for all, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, did you like chapter one?  
> Please comment with feedback!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young man is drafted into the marines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please leave your feedback, it really helps!  
> Thanks for reading!

Life was perfect.  
Everything was going as well as it could have.  
Trace was set to graduate university in a week if he could just pass one final test…

Those who passed the test graduated, while those who failed had a far worse fate: being drafted into the military.

When the military “recruiters” walked into the room wearing dress uniforms and wielding their batons, ready to retrieve those who hadn't met the bar, Trace thought there was no way he could be one of those people.

And yet, one of the recruiters walked down Trace’s aisle. “Please don’t be me, please don’t be me,” Trace muttered to himself as the recruiter walked further down the aisle, closer and closer to Trace.

He let out a silent gasp of relief as the recruiter took the student in front of him by the arm and dragged her out the door, with her struggling the whole way.

And then a different recruiter walked up the aisle, seeming to be staring straight at Trace.  
He walked closer, and closer…

And then the moment Trace had been dreading.

“C’mon kid, you’re coming with us,” the recruiter said calmly, but with a trace of… regret?

“No… no no no… No!! There must be some kind of mistake!” Trace began panicking as he realized that it was actually happening, that this wasn’t some wild dream.

“Sorry kid, there’s no mistake. Just come with me willingly and you’ll be fine… for now.”  
Trace despaired in silence for a few seconds, then slowly, in a depressed and downtrodden manner, stood up and followed the recruiter.  
The classmates he would’ve called his friends just hours ago averted their eyes, avoiding eye contact with the students who had been pulled into the draft.

As Trace was walked out of the school along with many other students to an awaiting drop ship, his last glimpse of true freedom was of the huge blue sky.

When he got inside the drop ship, he was told to sit down next to another soldier, but unlike the recruiter, this one was armed with the standard issue marine pulse rifle.

Trace sat down in a daze, having not yet fully accepted his situation as reality.

Some of the non-dropout students were standing outside of the drop ship, watching the failures be drafted off to fight in a war that no one wanted to fight.

As he sat there, Trace overheard some of them talking amongst each other.

“Look, the dropouts are all getting drafted! I know a couple of them, but that’s gotta be at least half of the graduating class!” One of them said to another.

“Well, I’ll bet that this is a just more idiots. None of those dropouts will ever actually make a difference in this war,” The other responded, smirking.

As Trace heard this, he felt his face redden in anger.

Suddenly coming to a halting stop, he decided there was only one thing he could do now:  
Prove them wrong.  
Win this war.

As these thoughts pounded through his head, the door to the drop ship began closing, as the last of the dropouts had entered the now packed drop ship bay. As the door closed, so did all hopes of escape and any small possibility that this was all a big mistake.

Without any windows, it was almost impossible to tell what was going on outside from within the bay, other than that they were taking off.  
The drop ship groaned and creaked under the force of gravity, as the inertial dampeners fought to overcome the g-forces that would normally kill the passengers.

And then… quiet.

A couple people coughed, many cried.  
But Trace just sat there, in total silence.  
He remained that way for what felt like hours, until a soldier walked down the center of the bay with a bag of… somethings.

“Alright everyone, listen up! You’re now in the Marine Corps! You're all marines so you better start acting like them. These things are your new food for every meal from now on. They are called meal bars, and you only get one a day, so don’t waste it! Though knowing what kind of people you are, I won’t be surprise if any of you idiots starve!”

The man began going down Trace’s row, handing each person what looked like a cube roughly the size of two fists pressed together, shoved inside silvery tinfoil packaging.

When Trace got his, he immediately opened it, expecting food of some kind.

Instead, he was presented with some sort of shiny brown-blackish cube that was sticky to the touch.

Trace saw other around him eating them, so he cautiously took a bite. He immediately felt fully awake and energized, as if he had drunk a very large amount of caffeine.

“What the heck do they put in these things?!?” Trace questioned aloud.

“Beats me. I just know it’s edible, it’s food, and it tastes okay.” The response came from the person sitting next to him.

After this, Trace went back into his dazed state of stillness, for at least another couple of hours. And then they arrived.

Standing up, the soldier closest to the bay doors said “Well, marines-to-be, welcome to your new home for the next 6 months. Training base Echo!”

He said with a dramatic flourish, sweeping his arms out to gesture outside as the bay door opened into a hangar, through which only a thin blue force field kept them from the total vacuum of an asteroid.  
They had arrived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback on the story!  
> New chapter already underway!


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trace adjusts to his new life as a marine... slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please remember to leave me feedback!

Trace groaned in misery from the cold, solid mattress of his bunk. “Why can’t they at least have normal mattresses? ” Trace was complaining aloud, but only loud enough so that his new bunk mate could hear him.  
They had been assigned bunk rooms immediately after arrival. The tired recruits immediately got into the beds, completely exhausted. Then they were told that the bunks they picked were their bunks for the rest of their time there.  
His bunk mate, Damien Reed, hung his head down to look at Trace from the top bunk. “So how’d you end up here? I got drafted for failing my test.”  
“Same here.” Trace said it as though it didn’t bother him that he had failed, yet he wasn’t fooling anyone.  
Looking at his wristband, which they had all been given, a holographic display popped up, showing the time. “It’s 2:00 AM??? Why the hell did I wake up?” Trace grumbled.“Damien?”  
Damien was already snoring from above him, his arm hanging off the edge.  
Trace sighed, deciding to try and get to sleep again.  
A few hours later and Trace was still laying there, fully awake. At that point, the door opened and an officer walked through.  
“ALRIGHT, EVERYONE UP! UP UP!” The officer immediately began yelling at the top of his voice, his face turning beet red. “Anyone not out of bed and in uniform in 3 minutes will be punished!” As he said this, the officer slowly seemed to look at each and every one of them.  
All but one person woke up groaning: Trace. Since he was already awake and had a head start, he jumped off the bed onto the cold, smooth floors. He began panicking, wondering where his outfit would be, until he saw two lockers and next to his bed: his and Damien’s.  
Opening the locker with his name on it, he fumbled with the uniform for a second or two, before pulling it on.  
A mere couple of seconds after he finished, the officer re-entered the room, this time with an actual marine following him. Trace looked around the room, and noted he was the only person out of bed and in uniform, and only half had even gotten out of bed.  
The officer seemed very displeased by this, as he began shouting again, this time with his face turning almost purple. “What a useless bunch of idiots! You can’t even get out of bed expect for…”  
As he said this last part, he turned and stared at Trace questioningly. At first, he wondered what the officer wanted, until he realized that it was his name.  
“Trace, sir.” With this answer, the officer seemed appeased, and then turned back to the rest of the room.  
“Except for Trace here! The rest of you, drop and give me 100 push-ups! Private Trace, you will show them how it’s done! Oh, and my name is Commander Westcott.” With a smirk on his face, the commander turned away and walked to the doorway.  
“Well?” With a start, Trace dropped to the floor and began doing push-ups.  
Wearing a smug look of satisfaction, Commander Westcott turned and looked at the rest of the marines. “Well? Get to it!”  
With much grumbling and complaints, the rest of the recruits began doing push-ups.  
After they had all finished the exercise, Commander Westcott and the marine following him, who Trace learned was named Gunners, led the recruits out into the sleek silver hallways of the base.  
As they walked down the empty corridors, Trace noticed that the air seemed almost stagnant, which he later learned was due to the air being recycled.  
After what felt like hours of walking, but was only a few minutes, they arrived at a sleek metal door, which was guarded by two marines.  
When the commander reached the door, he put his hand onto a hand scanner, which almost instantly prompted an announcement from it. “Westcott, Lawrence. Access granted.”  
The door slid open silently, leading to a vast room big enough to fit at least an entire dropship in it. As he walked into the room, Trace found himself awestruck by its contents:  
Weaponry.  
The jaws of every recruit there dropped upon seeing the hundreds of racks upon racks upon more racks. Each of these racks looked to contain up to 50 marine pulse rifles, Trace observed.  
The commander turned around to face his recruits, spreading out his hands in a gesture of the room around him.  
“Well recruits, welcome to the armory.”  
Commander Westcott walked up to the closest rack and pulled a pulse rifle and a power cell off of it, immediately smacking the power cell into the pulse rifle with a practiced ease.  
Wearing his seemingly trademark stern expression, he began explaining the weapon to the marines-to-be. ”This is a marine standard pulse rifle. To use it, all you have to do is put in a power cell, flick off the safety, and apply pressure to the trigger. You will be given one pulse rifle. You do not need to worry about running out of charge, as one of these can spend over one year of non-stop shooting before needing a recharge.”  
After explaining a lot of specifics about the weapon and repeatedly telling of how important their rifles were, which Trace assumed was to try and imprint the knowledge into their brain forever, each marine was handed a disassembled pulse rifle.  
Now somehow looking even more serious then before, Commander Westcott told them of the task to come. “You each will have 10 minutes to get to the shooting range, assemble the rifle, put nothing but 10 bullseyes in the target, and complete the course. Now, which of you is dumb enough to volunteer to run the course first?”  
For about 10 seconds, no one said anything. Trace found the silence to be unbearable, and wanted to learn the course anyways, and so he stepped forwards.  
“Sir, I’ll do it, sir!” Trace attempted to seem stoic as he said this, but on the inside he was more nervous than on his first day at university.  
“Well, good luck to you then. Go into that airlock over there and get a vacuum suit, and press the cycle button when you’re ready to fail. The rest of you, come with me to the observation room and watch how he fails so you can do better.”  
Nervously, Trace looked around the room, finding what looked like an airlock and stepping into it. Seeing a few metal fiber mesh suits in the corner, Trace picked one up and put it on.  
“The hell?!” Trace was caught by surprise as the suit tightened around him, squeezing harder and harder until Trace thought his bones would break, and then… nothing.  
The suit relaxed, and adjusted to his body size perfectly, to the point where Trace felt like he wasn’t wearing it.  
“That’s… new.” Taking a few experimental steps around, he found the suit to be just as amazing. It was at that point that Trace noticed a screen on his left arm, and so he tapped it.  
As a holographic display lit up, showing Trace’s vitals, weight, height and so on, as well as a few buttons.  
Ignoring the other buttons, Trace tapped a glowing red button labeled “helmet”. When he pressed it, the button turned green. For a moment, nothing happened. Until suddenly, more fibers slid out of the collar of the suit, surrounding his head with the exception of his face, and once again squeezing incredibly hard, until again, relaxing.  
Last of all, a faceplate slid over his uncovered face, sealing and lighting up with a display of many similar things to his arm screen.  
“Whoa… the military really does keep all the good stuff for itself!”  
Suddenly remembering where he was and what he was doing, Trace stepped over to a panel on the wall labeled “Cycle Airlock”.  
Pressing it, the door behind Trace leading inside the base closed, and a few seconds later the door in front of him opened, exposing the surface of the asteroid to him. Looking out, only awestruck by space for a moment, Trace discovered what looked like a path that had been made in the asteroid.  
He suddenly remembered that he was on a timer, and began sprinting. Back on Earth, Trace had once been on the university track team. That life may be gone now, but he still had his old skills.  
For a good couple of minutes, Trace saw nothing, but noticed that he was now in a valley. Suddenly, a beeping noise sounded in Trace’s ear, and something whizzed past him.  
Dropping to the ground, Trace briefly wondered what was happening, before another something whizzed past him. This time, he noted it was a bullet. He was being shot at.  
Following the path of the bullet back to the source, he saw an automated machine gun mounted in the valley wall.  
Standing up again, Trace ran up to the wall it was mounted on and pressed against it, hoping with all his might that the turret couldn’t look straight down.  
Waiting a few seconds, no more bullets were shot at him, so he began making his way along the valley wall, pressing himself flat against it.  
It took Trace a very tense minute, but he got out of sight of the turret, and continued sprinting, this one with what looked like a shooting range ahead of him. He was there!  
Reaching the range, he began assembling the rifle, only taking about 30 seconds before he aimed at the target and fired exactly 10 carefully aimed shots straight into the bullseye, before continuing on the path.  
After another minute or so, Trace saw a rover ahead of him with someone sitting in it.  
Reaching the rover, panting and out of breath, Trace looked up at the figure, wondering who they were. They were wearing a seemingly identical suit to Trace, making them unidentifiable.  
That is, until Trace noticed a hologram floating above them on his display. The person was Commander L. Westcott, according to the display.  
Panting, Trace saluted him as he was meant to do. “At ease, recruit. You completed the course in ten minutes and three seconds. For failing, you may not eat until tomorrow. Get in the rover.”  
Head hanging down, Trace trudged up to the rover, climbing into the passenger seat, before they began driving in the direction of the base.  
It was gonna be a long day, Trace could already tell.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trace begins to explore the training facility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez! Sorry it took so long for me to make this! I kinda started procrastinating...  
> Either way, here it is! Enjoy!

With Trace observing, the rest of the day went at a slow and monotonous pace, with each recruit attempting the course one after another, but this time Trace was an observer.  
Casually, Trace walked over to Damien, who was leaning against a nearby wall in the observation room.  
“Heya.” Trace said to him. “Hey.” Was his response.  
“How’d you do on the course? I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching during your run, I was resting my eyes.” As Trace said this, Damien rolled his eyes. “Figures that only you could sleep while standing up with the squad leader watching. Anyways, you’re still the fastest time at ten minutes three seconds. I’m at fifth place roughly, for now, with thirteen minutes and 25 seconds.” Damien delivered this news straight faced, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that they were all failing.  
“Wait, let me get this straight: I did best? Seriously? Awesome!” He said, glee evident on his face.  
Damien’s face fell. “Yeah, good for you.”  
Trace, realizing how insensitive he was being, attempted to repair the conversation while he still could. “Hey, I’m still failing with the rest of us, so we’re all in this together!”  
Damien glanced up, and the hint of a smile played on his lips. “Yeah, I guess so. If we’re screwed, then so are you!”  
Later that day, after a few hours of them just watching the rest of the recruits fail the course, none beating Trace, they went to a large open room, filled with tables and benches. It looked quite like a cafeteria.  
Turning to them, Commander Westcott began yelling yet again. “This is the mess hall! This is where you will eat! Personally, I don’t know why we bother with a dedicated room! You maggots can’t appreciate what you have anyway!”  
Many of the recruits, excluding Trace, cringed at this. Trace however kept his face straight, not revealing his true emotions.  
Commander Westcott turned his back to the recruits, and began walking out of the room. “Since you all failed, none of you will be using this room tomorrow! Return to your bunks! Lights out at 8!”  
Glancing at his watch, Trace noticed it was 7:12 PM currently. “Sir?” Trace asked the commander before he could walk out. “What do we do until 8?”  
Turning back to face Trace, annoyance on his face, he responded. “As long as you are back in your bunks by 8, I don’t give a damn how you waste your time.”  
The recruits looked at each other, and began talking. Walking over to Damien, Trace asked, “You up for exploring this base with me?” Damien responded “No thanks, personally I’m kind of tired.”  
“Suit yourself,” Trace said, “but I’ll be exploring this place”.  
Beginning to walk down the first hallway, he saw, Trace saw a sign that said “Maintenance” above a doorway. Walking into the room, Trace found a huge amount of equipment lying around the room, in varying states of disrepair or disassembly.  
Noticing a combat drone armed with dual machine guns sitting on a nearby table, Trace walked over and begin inspecting it. The drone appeared to be in relatively good condition, it just needed some new circuitry and a processing core.  
As Trace began fishing and replacing parts for the drone, he was lost in his work, until his wristband buzzed. As he looked down at the display, he noticed a message labeled “L. Westcott”.  
The message was read “All recruits, lights out in 10 minutes. If you are not in your bunks by lights out, you will be punished.” Trace immediately panicked, and rushed out of the room into the hallway, soon realizing he was completely lost.  
Quickly checking his wristband, he found a button labeled “map”, and pressed it. An electronic voice said “Where would you like to go?”  
Trace was momentarily confused, until he realized the voice was coming from his wristband. “The bunk room! As fast as possible!”  
As Trace looked at the map, pulsating red lines appeared on it, apparently leading the way to the bunk room.  
Immediately breaking into a run, he followed the path perfectly, not taking a single wrong turn or hesitating.  
In only a few minutes, Trace found himself outside the bunk room, breathing heavily. As their bunk was nearest to the door, Damien looked over and saw Trace.  
“Dude, are you OK? You look like you ran a marathon or something!” Damien said.  
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just was panicking about getting back in time.” He responded.  
“Well, you made it! With three minutes to spare, no less! Where were you anyways?”  
Trace hesitated, having a gut feeling to keep what he found to himself. “Oh, I was just looking around…”  
“For 50 minutes or so? How big is this place?” Damien looked at Trace with suspicion written all over his face.  
“This place is huge! What we saw today was just the tip of the iceberg!” Trace responded, attempting to keep his deceit hidden.  
“Geez. That’s crazy!”  
“I know!” Trace said, changing out of his uniform and climbing into his bunk. “The military really does keep the best of everything for itself!” He said.  
“Lights out!” Commander Westcott walked into the room, checking to see that everyone was in the bunk room.  
As the commander flicked what must have been a light switch, the room was plunged into pitch blackness, not a speck of light making it through the airtight door.  
As other recruits began snoring, Trace lay there, unable to sleep due to his mind racing a hundred miles a minute, thinking about what could happen tomorrow, ways to make the drone better, and so on and so forth.  
Trace got the worst night of sleep of his life that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Remember to leave your feedback in the comments! Even if it have no account, you can leave a comment!


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The recruits learn about their armor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so yeah, it took like 2 weeks for me to upload this... however, it took a lot of editing. I kept rewriting the chapter, because I was unhappy with it.   
> Anyways, sorry for the lack of COOL STUFF in this chapter, but I had to find a way to explain their armor without it being boring!

Trace had the worst headache of his life. He had just woken up on his highly uncomfortable bunk to the noise of snoring. Looking at his surroundings, Trace noticed that it was still pitch black, as the lights had not yet turned on for the "day". Not that there really was a day or night on the lonely asteroid training base.

Looking at his wristband, a glowing blue holographic display popping up, Trace saw it was only 4 AM. A long way to go until the start of training. Trace sighed. Since he had gotten to the base, he hadn't slept well, occupied with thoughts of his dead brother and parents.

His parents had died when he was 9, and it had rocked his world. His older brother, who was 13 at the time, had to take care of Trace from that moment on. After that, he and his brother became much closer, but both began dealing with their grief in their own ways. 

His brother became more and more focused with physical training and so on, while Trace became obsessed with studying.

Eventually, Trace's brother joined the marines voluntarily, and Trace went to university. Fast forward a few years since then, and Trace's brother died in the same week as Trace's final exam. Obviously caught up in grief, he failed the exam by three points. And here he was.  
It had been about three weeks since the start of marine training, and things only got more difficult. Every day since the first time they ran the course, more and more obstacles were added. At this point, there were numerous machine gun emplacements, barbed wire to crawl under, walls to climb over, and moving targets you have to shoot. 

Not only this, but it all still had to be done in under 10 minutes. Now instead of no food for a day if you failed, you had to redo the course. Over and over, until your time was under 10 minutes. 

However, for every day since the first day, Trace had somehow been getting faster. His newest record was 7 minutes and 32 seconds.  
Trace was fastest every single time. His recruits had varying reactions, from envy and jealousy, to hatred and anger, to supportive. 

Somehow, Trace had made over half the recruits his enemies. One in particular was the worst. Zane Minre. He had a gang of people who followed him like puppies, always looking for ways to please him.

It had been this way since, for whatever reason, Commander Westcott had named him squad leader over Trace. This annoyed him to no end, as he knew he was the better choice, but he accepted his commanders decision.

Zane made things worse for Trace every chance he got, for instance one day Commander Westcott told Zane to pick a recruit to help someone with cleaning the floor using a toothbrush. Zane, without hesitation, said "Sir, Trace Bellinger, sir."

Then he was set to help with nothing but a nod. That day was awful, mostly because of how badly his back ached from leaning down.  
However, Trace did have to acknowledge that Zane was good. He came in second place every time in every activity. He organized things well.  
Trace sighed. Ever since he had first found it, Trace had been using every possible free moment to repair the drone he had found. It was calming work, and allowed him to just… think.

Since Trace had until 7 AM before it was time to "wake up", he began thinking about his next move. He knew for sure that he was going to get the drone repaired at some point, but what would he do with it?

As Trace pondered this, time flew by. After an indiscernible amount of time, the lights turned on, and so began the daily wake up routine. Everyone was now able to get out of bed and get in uniform in the allotted amount of time.

As they walked towards the usual training area, the other recruits chatted amongst themselves. Some people tried to make idle conversations with Trace, but he dismissed them. 

When they entered the wide open space, Commander Westcott was waiting for them. “Today you will begin to learn how to use a mechanized infantry suit! If you break these suits, you will be tried for treason! One of these suits is more valuable then all of you combined!”

As he did his usual pacing in front of the marines, he looked up towards a particular rack. “Alright, bring out the suits!”

The rack opened, revealing two dozen 8 feet tall suits, which had forearm mounted heavy pulse barrels. In addition, they looked to be extremely heavily armored. 

Commander Westcott looked at Trace. “Who’s going to be dumb enough to be first in using one?” 

Trace volunteered immediately, with multiple other recruits following suit a few seconds later. “Trace Bellinger! You will be first!” Said Westcott.

“Sir, yes sir!” He said, approaching a suit. “Press the green button on the wrist pad to open the suit. Then just step backwards into it!” 

As Trace did this, the front of the suit opened, revealing its interior. Stepping inside, the suit closed around him again. As with the vac suit, it squeezed him intensely for a few seconds, before relaxing. As Trace stood in darkness for a moment, he wondered if this was all an elaborate trap.

Suddenly, a blue display came on in front of Trace’s face, showing the outside world, along with his vital signs, communication status, ammunition levels, and a plethora of other things.

When trace tried to look around, the suit moved perfectly, feeling like it wasn’t even there. “Whoa…” said Trace. As he looked around, he noticed the commander and all the recruits looking… up at him?

Trace wasn’t short, but he wasn’t tall. He was average. Thus it was a surprise that they looked short. “Take a step forwards, get used to the suit. It’s not hard.” Commander Westcott instructed.

Taking a step forwards, again Trace noticed it didn’t feel like he was even wearing the suit. “The suit charges off of things like heat, so you shouldn’t ever run out of power. Ammunition, it manufactures on the fly. These suits cost almost as much as a corvette. Don’t lose them.”

With that, he gestured, and the rest of the recruits got into the suits. They spent the rest of the day training with the suits. It turned out, the suit could keep a marine alive in terms of food and water almost forever.

The one thing the suits couldn’t preserve is their sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, leave a kudos (you don’t need an account to do it!) and please comment how I can improve this! Thanks!


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, well, I can’t say anything because spoilers! However I can say that there is violence and blood in this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Over 100 readers! Thanks to all of you! Please leave a kudos if you enjoy!

As Trace walked down the hallway, he pondered the events of the last three months. Every day they had trained to their limit, and every day that limit got just a little bit higher. 

For Trace, the limit got higher at a faster rate then everyone else. As time progressed, it became clear to everyone just how far ahead of them Trace was. That is, except for Commander Westcott. He seemed indifferent, with not even a compliment to Trace.

Zane, on the other hand, seemed to resent Trace more and more. Every time it seemed he could be no more cruel to Trace, he was. Trace sighed as we walked. “Oh why the hell am I still here?” he muttered to himself.

“I don’t want to be here! Sure, it’s my fault for failing school, but still!” Recently Trace had been desperate for a glimpse of blue sky, but on their barren training asteroid, there was no blue sky, only the blackness of space.

“Hey Trace!” One of the other recruits called to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Hey” Trace responded, with a bit of confusion as to why they wanted to speak to him. 

The recruit caught up to Trace and walked beside him. Her name was… Kathryn? He couldn’t really remember, it seemed the recruits had been divided into two categories: those with Trace and those with Zane.

Many recruits had been approaching Trace and saying hi, trying to get in his good side. He didn’t really care, and couldn’t remember all the names. Kathryn, he remembered her. 

The only reason he remembered her was due to the fact she had started coming in second place every time. “I’ve been trying to find you! I’ve been wondering, what’s your trick?” She asked.

“How do you mean?” Trace asked her. “I mean, how are you so far ahead of all of us? For gods sakes, you run the course in 5 minutes!” She inquired. “Uhhh… I don’t know? Honestly, it’s all a blur when I’m doing that. I just follow my instincts.”

She stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, before saying “No way. I refuse to believe that! People just aren’t that good!” Trace studied her, before saying “Well obviously, some people are.” He said.

Kathryn just seemed to get more resolved when he said this. “Well, the—“ 

She was suddenly cut off as the base rocked with an explosion, followed by another and another. 

She and Trace both looked at each other and shock, both thinking the same thing “What was that??” They both said in unison. Suddenly, the lights all turned red, and the loudspeaker system that neither of them knew about the existence of.

“Attention all personnel. The base is under attack by martians. Please get to your assigned posts.” Trace handled this information calmly, while Kathryn seemed panicked. “Oh my god, what do we do?!” She screamed.

Trace just looked at her as if to say “what do you think.”

“We go to the armory, grab a suit and gun, and get out there.” He said calmly. “How the hell are you so calm??” She said. 

“I’m terrified. I’m just not showing it,” He responded. “Now lets get to the armory.” Kathryn replied “Right”.

As they ran through the glowing red halls, they passed by several other panicked recruits. Trace told them all to follow him to the armory so they could help fight. 

In normal circumstances, many of them of them wouldn’t have followed Trace. But with the steely confidence and focus with which he said it, they all found themselves doing as he said.

Eventually, they got to the armory. Surprisingly, despite what had been said on the loudspeaker, they had encountered no martians on the way there. “Alright people, grab a suit and a gun! This isn’t training anymore people! This is real!”

Trace walked over to a suit and climbed in with quick efficiency, then walking over and picking up a pulse rifle and multiple grenades. He then picked activated his radio, checking all the channels, yet they were all empty. 

Trace shouted to the recruits “Everyone! Set your suit to secure radio channel one!” As everyone did this, Trace looked out the doorway, only to see the hallway packed with Martian suits. 

Martian marine suits were very similar to those of the Terran Union, with one major difference: Martian armor was red, while Terran armor was gunmetal grey. 

Quickly getting over his surprise, Trace shouted “Martians in the hallway!” He targeted the first soldiers in front, shooting them three times with cold efficiency. Two rounds to the head, one to the torso.

The Martians were sloppy, Trace noticed. It took until trace had killed 4 of them for them to return fire. But once they did, return fire they did. Any recruits within line of sight of the doorway were quickly mowed down.

He suddenly realized he had killed his first humans today. The weird part was, he didn’t feel bad about it. “Recruits! Take cover! If you can, use your grenades!” As he said this, he lobbed a grenade of his own around the corner, setting it to high impact frag. 

After a few seconds, he heard a loud bang and cries of pain. Another recruit attempted to run in front of the hallway and throw his grenade, but was instantly cut down. “Grenade!!” Trace screamed, leaping away from the corpse.

After only a few moments, the body exploded, blood going everywhere. Another two recruits who were near the body took molten shrapnel to the head, knocking them out instantly. If it wasn’t for the suit, they would have died. 

Suddenly, Trace heard a voice screaming, not on the radio, but out loud. “CEASE FIRE!!!” Trace realized it was coming from the hallway. “Cease fire!” Trace shouted over the radio. Slowly, everyone stopped shooting.

“Hello Terran marine recruits! I represent the mars marine corps! You have one chance to surrender or we will show no mercy!” He kept on talking, but Trace had already made his choice. He took all the grenades he head, set them for remote detonation, and threw them down the hallway. The moment he heard the voice stop talking, he detonated them all.

Surprisingly, he heard no screaming, so he looked around the corridor, only to find a scene so gruesome it belonged in a horror movie. Every one of the martians soldiers had been blown apart, chunks off flesh and blood covering the walls. Several recruits looked, and vomited.

Suddenly, a team of Terran marines in full armor came running around the corner. Several recruits raised their rifles, but Trace yelled “CEASE FIRE! THEY’RE FRIENDLIES!” 

In the end, Commander Westcott had made it there with a team of his marines. The base was evacuated, as the martians had taken over almost all of it and were still sending more troops, while ships shot each other down in space nearby. 

Each and every one of the recruits was commended for their bravery, but all of them said the whole thing was Traces idea. Trace ended up being selected as the new squad leader, as Zane had just sat down and cried the entire attack. 

When asked how he had taken down nearly a whole platoon of Martian marines, Trace said “Explosives.” 

And so, the recruits became full fledged marines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this! Please comment what you thought and if yuh enjoyed...  
> Leave a kudos!!  
> Thank you all so much!!


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